


Pulling Forward

by LesbianArsenal



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, In relation to the mission gone wrong, Mentions of Violence, Other Small Appearances by Clark and the Justice League, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:37:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesbianArsenal/pseuds/LesbianArsenal
Summary: The League has a not-so-ideal mission and Bruce plans on dealing with it the same way he always does. Diana is there to make sure that doesn't happen.





	Pulling Forward

**Author's Note:**

  * For [teenagesounds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenagesounds/gifts).



> This was a challenge, and I hope it isn't too OOC.

It had been a rough mission. Even Bruce could admit that to himself. Not to anyone else, but in his own thoughts, he felt safe saying he was exhausted. He could feel the toll on his body. His joints ached, and he was pretty sure that knee injury from two months ago wasn’t quite healed enough for half of the things he had done in the last few days. He knew Alfred was already going to have a speech about it planned.

Everyone else looked exhausted, too. He could feel the tired energy radiating from everyone in the Watch Tower. Jessica was half-asleep on Simon’s shoulder. He decided not to comment on it as he went over the debrief. Jason would probably joke that he was going soft.

The mission had seemed simple. A few dozen rogue aliens, hell-bent on destroying Earth. It was typical Justice League fare. The only difference this time was that they hadn’t saved everyone. The group had been organized, more organized than Bruce had been expecting. They had planted bombs in more cities than the League had realized. Even with Victor’s calculations and quick thinking, they barely had located all of them.

There hadn’t been enough of them to stop every detonation, even with Barry and Clark’s speed on their side. Seconds too late. The ground had exploded in front of them. Barry had grabbed a few people, but he couldn’t get all of them. The gore mixed with broken earth had made all of them hesitate. A few, mourning seconds were lost before the last of the invading force was taken down.

They hadn’t wanted to be taken alive, saying that being prisoners to Earth or to Oa would have been an insult. Jessica and Simon had tried to reason with them, but the force had turned their weapons on themselves when they realized that the League would take them alive.

Clark looked haunted by the things they had seen. It didn’t get easier, even after all this time, even for Clark. Bruce could feel the grief in his own mind. He knew that he would look in the mirror and see the hundred people they couldn’t get to in time. See the survivors who could only mourn the lost. See the people who killed themselves rather than face the consequences of their actions.

Barry and Victor seemed to be only half-listening. Both seemed to want to leave as soon as possible. Bruce could feel it in himself too, but he continued his speech in his usual gruff tone. The things they could have done better. The things they did well. The plan of action to prevent this in the future. The possibility of opening more space on the roster. An upgrade to the alert systems.

He managed to coax a weak nod out of Victor and Simon at the mention of them working together on the system upgrades. Clark suggested that he and the remaining League members could help with making sure that the affected city had a plan for rebuilding. Bruce made a mental note to see how much Wayne money he could effectively use to help. He knew it was important for the League to be not only protectors, but as responsible for the mistakes they made as well.

Through all of it, Diana stayed quiet. Her eyes trained on Bruce, but not adding anything. It was rare that she wouldn’t had some input. Bruce knew this meant she was either going to argue with him after everyone left or lecture him. He most likely deserved both.

“Everyone, get some rest,” Bruce said, his voice betraying only the tiniest bit of tiredness and compassion. “Who knows how long you’ll have to take it.”

“Who needs pancakes? I need pancakes,” Jessica mumbled, roused from her sleepy state as Simon moved to get up.

“I know just the place,” Simon said.

Bruce watched as his teammates dispersed. Diana’s gaze held him firmly in place. He clapped Clark on the shoulder as he passed and was rewarded with a smile and the same gesture in return.

“Gotta get home to Lois and Jon. They’re probably worried.”

Bruce simply nodded. He didn’t want to say his own thoughts on the matter out loud. That they were probably always worried. That they probably lived in a constant state of worry.

Bruce didn’t feel that it was appropriate to guilt his friend any more than was necessary. He stayed silent.

“You should take your own advice, you know,” Clark’s smile faded a bit, “You should actually rest.”

Bruce nodded again and gave Clark another pat on the shoulder before he walked out of the room. Bruce knew that even as tired as he was, there was no way he could sleep tonight. He knew Gotham was in good hands, but he would probably join them anyway. Something about cold, damp Gotham high rises felt like relaxation after League missions.

Or perhaps, if he was honest, it felt like atonement. One more life saved in Gotham for each one he lost on this mission. Working out what he owed.

Once everyone was out of the room, Diana laced her fingers in front of her mouth. Bruce rose an eyebrow, though the motion was hidden behind his cowl. They stared at each other, in a silent conversation before they even spoke any words. Bruce knew Diana well enough to know what that look in her eye meant; argument it was.

“You were quiet.”

“You said everything that needed to be said.”

Bruce’s eyebrow rose slightly higher. Diana sighed and unlaced her fingers. She relieved her posture and cracked her back. Loudly.

“Take off the cowl, everyone’s gone. No one left to scare.”

“We’re still in the Tower, so I’ll keep it on.”

Diana pulled one arm in front of her and stretched. “Always have loved your self-imposed rules.”

“It’s just the rule.” Bruce remembered specifically mentioning it. He knows everyone keeps to it. Mostly. While he’s around, probably. He tried not to groan out loud as his teammates sometimes reminded him of his children.

It clearly didn’t matter that Bruce made this realization in his mind as Diana chuckled at him anyway. She always found a way to tell what he was thinking. She knew him the best, maybe even better than Clark. Where Clark was always seeing the best of him, he knew Diana just saw him. She saw his flaws, his human facets that he tried so hard to hide away while in the League.

Usually, having someone know him that well would be unnerving, but with Diana? He knew that the knowledge had just come from a strong friendship. He knew her as well, though the more he knew her, the more she terrified him. She was a force of nature, a demi-god. While he stood beside men who could bend physics without thinking about it or who could survive an atomic bomb on a daily basis, it was Diana that scared him the most.

Maybe that’s why he had become such good friends with her. After all, Batman was about becoming your fears.

She stuck an elbow on the table and pointed at him. “You’re not going to patrol.”

Bruce crossed his arms, and he tried to reason with himself that it wasn’t a petulant gesture.

“Don’t give me that look,” Diana said.

Bruce continued to stare at her. Diana rolled her eyes and got up from her chair.

“You know Kate and the rest have the city well protected.” She strode over to him.

“Batwoman,” Bruce said, the tone of his voice indicating that was the word he had wanted her to use while in the Watch Tower, “And the rest of the Knights could always use another set of hands. Gotham’s troubles don’t go away when I’m not there.”

“No, they don’t.” Diana stopped in front of him and leaned against the table. He could see the signs of tiredness and grief on her features more clearly now, however slight. “But that’s why you entrusted your city to more than just you, isn’t it?”

She looked expectantly at him for a response, but Bruce wasn’t sure how to. Perhaps, he was more tired than he had thought. Usually he would have a set answer for people who questioned him. He didn’t feel that Diana would be open to hearing ‘Gotham needs Batman’. Diana always made him think about his words.

After a few moments of silence, Diana smirked. It wasn’t a wicked thing, but it was at his expense. “Then you’re free.”

“Even if I wasn’t going to patrol, there are still things that need my attention.”

“Nothing that can’t wait.”

Bruce didn’t sputter. He didn’t sputter, but if he did, he would have at that moment. A slight anger took hold of him.

“People died today, Diana. People died because the Justice League failed to save them.”

“Thousands more lived because we succeeded.”

“You can’t justify it that way!” Bruce clenched both of his fists. His arms snaked tighter around his chest. He tried to remember to breathe. One, two. He closed his eyes and tried to steer his mind away from the image of the rubble. Away from the image of scared faces. If he didn’t, older memories and images would surface. One, two. In, out.

Diana placed a hand on his exposed fist. Bruce looked down at the comforting gesture. At one point in his life, he would have been surprised by even this simple show of empathy, of compassion. He had let people into his life, though. He had let people see the darkest parts of himself and they had stayed. He unclenched his jaw, only barely realizing he had clenched it in the first place.

Diana didn’t speak. She kept her hand where it was and her eyes on his face. He met her eyes, but quickly looked away. For all his bravado, for all his ego, he still couldn’t always handle the truth that was laid bare in Diana’s eyes.

“I know.” He said it to mean more than that. He said it to mean ‘I don’t believe this is a game to be played, but why does it feel like we lost’.

Diana removed her hand and placed it on the table behind her. Her gaze was still suffocating. He knew she wanted something else. More silent communication. Even if they didn’t always agree, they always understood each other.

Bruce stared at the ground a moment longer before pulling his cowl down. Now, he was Bruce. It was a rigid distinction in his mind, but more difficult to express. Batman was who he was. Bruce Wayne was who he was. But just Bruce? Just himself? He was only starting to really understand who he was without the cowl, without the money. He had a family, he had friends, but figuring out how to stand next to them was always something of a struggle.

“I know you know.”

Bruce couldn’t help but let out a single chuckle at Diana’s tone. She crossed one foot in front of the other and tilted her head to the side. She was contemplating something, which could have meant a lot of possible outcomes. Based on the conversation they had yet to truly finish, Bruce could hazard a guess as to which one it would be.

They danced around the actual subject, but they had done it enough that they both knew what was truly being said. They also both knew what the outcome would be.

“How does dancing sound?” _I don’t want you to go back to Gotham to brood over every wrong decision._

“Awful.” _I need to plan for this in the future. I need to make it right._

“What about swimming?” _You can’t plan for everything, Bruce._

“No.” _That’s what I do, Diana._

“I’m pretty sure there’s mini golf open in some time zone.” _You also need to not let every wrong decision haunt you._

“I would rather see if Hal needs help.” _If I don’t think about it now, what if I’m not prepared the next time?_

_“_ Surely, a stroll through a park? I’m sure ducks are hungry somewhere.” _You won’t always be prepared. There is always the possibility of surprise._

“I’ve never been fond of ducks.” _That’s what scares me._

Diana moved her arms in front of her, crossing them to mimic Bruce. They sat there for a moment, staring at each other. Bruce knew he couldn’t move Diana, in any sense. Once she set her mind to something, there was no going back. You could only get pulled along.

It was what made their friendship work. Diana would give him just enough slack to make him feel like he could win, and then tug him forward. He figured he needed everyone that could pull him from the past. From his mind. From his worries. From the fears that he wore every day.

“Come on, I know just the place. Get changed.”

Bruce shook his head and allowed his smile to take the place of his usual scowl. She always won.

 

\--

 

“How many times have you seen these exhibits?” Bruce asked as they walked through the hallways of the art museum. He tried not to let his slight limp be too obvious, but his knee was throbbing. Diana had handed him a cane before they left the Watch Tower, but Bruce had refused. Perhaps he should have accepted it.

Diana had brought him to the Louvre. She often did. It was early now, and not as many people crowded around them as usual, though there was still a crowd. They were just two ordinary tourists, as far as anyone else was concerned. Bruce was both slightly calmed by the anonymity and perturbed by it.

He knew Diana noticed his eyes flicking around the room, analyzing every possible scenario. She didn’t comment on it, as he knew she was doing the same. She might have wanted to clear their minds, but she also knew how to stay alert.

“This one is new,” She said. Her eyes were glued to a portrait of Louis XIII. _Louis XIII Crowned by Victory._ Bruce was well acquainted with the piece. The imagery was not to his particular tastes, but he understood the sentiment.

“You’ve seen almost all of these before.”

“But not in this order,” Diana countered.

Bruce sighed and looked around the room. All around him were vestiges of rulers and kings long gone. Most of them he was familiar with. Most of them he had seen before with Diana, or as a child, or on a computer screen with restless eyes in the early parts of dawn.

“Any particular reason you brought me to an exhibit about power and symbols?” His voice was low, whispered almost. They could only speak so openly before the people around them caught on.

Diana’s response was a hum and she led him to an Egyptian piece. It was a trinity, with Osiris, Isis, and Horus. The gold pendant seemed to answer in Diana’s stead.

“Art is what you interpret,” She finally said. “These are all symbols intended to sway, are they not?”

Bruce nodded as they moved through the first part of the exhibition. “Yes, but this is meant to illicit the meaning between _political_ power and art.”

Diana turned her head slightly and a small smile played on her lips before she returned her eyes to the art. “You’re always so literal, aren’t you?”

Bruce didn’t reply.

They moved through the exhibit, Bruce learning more through Diana’s explanations of the pieces than he ever could have with an audio guide. Sometimes she spoke about the history behind a piece’s meaning. Sometimes, she spoke about the journey it made to the gallery. Occasionally, she would say something cryptic that he knew was meant to be aimed at him.

If Bruce was honest, her attempt at getting his mind off the transpired events was working. As they worked their way into the last part of the exhibition, he made a mental note to see if Damian would like to come here. He wasn’t always sure what Damian would find interesting or boring. He figured it was a struggle most fathers had with their thirteen-year-old sons, but his proved to be more than slightly tricky.

“You always humor me by coming with me,” Diana said, taking her eyes off a portrait.

Bruce shrugged. Diana’s eyes crinkled a bit at the edges, a silent laugh.

“Don’t worry, I can see the restless energy.”

“I am perfectly calm.”

“No, you aren’t.” She smiled. “Let’s go, I can always come back.”

Bruce and Diana weaved their way through the now more crowded halls, but they came upon a modern piece in the last part of the gallery. A modernist take on Superman. Bruce stopped to stare. He could feel Diana’s eyes on him, not on the painting. He could hear the people around him talking about the piece. Different languages muddled together as he picked out what they were saying.

“He’s a powerful symbol.”

“Superman is so cool!”

“Of course they chose to put this here.”

“Americans.”

Diana touched his arm. “Come on, let’s go.”

Bruce continued to follow Diana out of the gallery. They left the museum and Diana seemed to know exactly where she was going. She stopped at a vendor close by and silently handed Bruce a cupcake after conversing with the seller in French.

He took a bite of the confection and tried not to lose himself in his thoughts. He wasn’t met with the mouth-numbing sugary taste he was expecting, and actually enjoyed the muted flavors. He lifted the cupcake in silent thanks. Diana lifted hers as well.

“I hadn’t seen the last painting before,” Bruce said, after he swallowed his bite.

“I believe it’s new, painted last year,” Diana provided, “The artist was well connected, so it moved quickly.”

“Art imitating life, imitating art,” Bruce’s lips quirked a bit at the edges and Diana laughed.

“Yes, connections are used for more than just propping up a political platform.”

“I wonder if the curator understood the irony.”

“Oh, I guarantee they did not,” Diana giggled. “It is a nice painting, though.”

Bruce thought back on it as he took another bite of the cupcake. It had captured everything people see in Superman. In superheroes in general. The hope, the awe, the trust.

They were supposed to be people’s hope. That’s what the Justice League was. They protected people from the worst, but not always. Not this time.

“Don’t think so hard, your face will stay that way.”

“You’re the one who brought me to an art gallery. Isn’t thinking what you’re supposed to do?”

“Yes, but not about the dark things I know you are.” Diana looked back at him.

Bruce sighed and looked up to the clouds. He could feel the energy leaving his body and the tiredness taking over. He could at least thank Diana for knowing how to wind him down.

Diana led him to a small building and proceeded to unlock the door. They climbed a few stairs before Diana unlocked another door. Bruce might have been surprised, if he was anyone else. But he knew that this was one of many safe houses Diana had access to. He knew that it was usually occupied by Donna, or another Titan because they all seemed to share everything.

Diana walked over to the small kitchen and put on a kettle.

“It won’t be as good as Alfred’s, I’m sure.”

“Nothing ever is.”

Bruce sat himself down stiffly on the edge of a wooden chair. Diana rose an eyebrow and then looked at the couch. She looked back at him. He sat himself more comfortably on the wooden chair. He even let his posture drop the slightest bit.

“It’s just a couch. You’ve sat in those before.”

It wasn’t the thought of the couch that bothered him, it was the ‘who had access to the couch’ that bothered him. He tried very hard not to judge Dick’s choice of friends, but he could only stop himself from doing it so well.

Diana poured them both a small cup of tea and she sat next to him at the small table, taking a chair for herself. They sipped in silence for a moment.

“You know, I don’t actually like tea that much.”

“I know,” Diana said as she took a particularly loud sip, “But I hate coffee.”

Bruce chuckled and set his cup down.

“I know what you were playing at with the gallery.”

He knew Diana had wanted to drive home her point. She wanted to tell him that they still gave people hope, that they still protected people and did their jobs well even if they were fallible.

“Honestly, I just wanted to see the new gallery,” Diana said. She placed her cup on the table and looked at him.

Bruce closed his eyes and let out a long breath. He knew better than that.

“It’s not your fault.” Diana’s voice was quiet, but firm.

Bruce let her words wash over him. She was talking about the mission now because he had been thinking about the mission. He had been leading them, he had failed to lead them well enough.

“You cannot be omnipotent, no matter how hard you try.”

“I’ll just try harder.”

Diana snorted. Bruce cracked his eyes open enough to see the smirk on her face.

“I hope you know how ridiculous that sounds,” She said. “I hope you can hear it.”

Bruce could hear it.

“You don’t have to punish yourself every time.”

“What else can I do?” Bruce put his head in his hands and rested his elbows on the small table. His tea steamed a little around his hands, warming them. “This is what I know.”

“It’s not all you know.” Bruce could hear the scrape of the chair on the ground as Diana moved a bit. He felt a hand on his shoulder. “You’re changing, Bruce. You’ve changed a lot. You’re not the same man who put on a cowl for the first time.”

“You’re right, and it’s because I’ve gotten better at planning, at learning everything there is to know or how to find it out.”

“No,” Diana sounded only slightly irritated, “That’s not why.”

Bruce took his head out of his hands and looked at her. Her whole body open to him, willing him to listen.

“You have people in your life Bruce. You’re not alone anymore, you haven’t been for a long time.”

Bruce knew it was true. Diana right now was proof of that.

“You have people you trust to take care of Gotham. You have kids who love you. You even have a kid with meta powers who you call your own. Bruce Wayne can change his ways.”

Bruce thought of Duke. Even a few years ago the thought of having a meta with a bat symbol on their chest was ridiculous, but now? Duke was a part of his family. Clark and Diana were his best friends. He had changed his mind about what family meant, what friends meant, what trust meant.

“You’re more than your mistakes,” Diana said. “We all have our own ways of dealing with them, but none of us are defined by them.”

“I wish the guilt got easier to bear,” Bruce’s voice so quiet that it was mostly rumblings instead of words.

Diana seemed to understand him nonetheless, as she sighed and settled back in her chair. They sat there in silence, the only things breaking it were the quiet breaths from each of them and the occasional clink of Diana’s tea cup.

“I’m not saying it does, or that it ever will, get easier, but you can’t let it ruin you.”

Diana’s words cut through the silence and Bruce’s thoughts. He knew she was right, but it was so difficult to follow through. He couldn’t count how many times they’d had this exact conversation before. They tended to skip parts here or there, but it was always the same somehow. It was like a film stuck on repeat. His whole life felt like a film stuck on repeat sometimes.

But he knew it was a conversation he needed to have again and again. He needed a reminder that he shouldn’t let himself wallow in his grief, that he shouldn’t let himself become buried by his mistakes. It was a conversation Diana was willing to have with him, again and again.

He looked at her again, this time trying to look for the tells he knew. Her eyelids were slightly heavier with tiredness, her lips crooked in the way they got when she was sad. He looked into her eyes and he saw the grief for the people they hadn’t saved. But he also saw past that. She was already looking ahead.

Bruce put his own hand on Diana’s and gave her a genuine smile. He squeezed her hand.

“Okay, teacher, I think that’s enough of a lesson for today,” He joked. He was ready to be done wallowing. He wanted to look ahead as well.

Diana withdrew her hand and rolled her eyes at the name. Both Bruce and Clark had taken to poking the slightest of fun at Diana’s tendencies. She poked at his temple lightly.

“If only it would stay in there.”

Bruce hoped it would.

He pushed his tea a little farther away from him and went to stand up. Diana looked at him with a questioning expression, her eyes drawn up and her mouth drawn to the side.

“If we leave now, we can make it in time for dinner at the Manor,” Bruce said. “I think it’s Italian night, besides, Alfred likes you the most.”

“He has good taste," She laughed. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"I can always plan after dinner."

The strange delay of day to night when they traveled back to Gotham still got to Bruce sometimes, after a long day. When they arrived at the manor, the patrol seemed to be coming up out of the cave and into the manor.

“Diana, what a pleasant surprise,” Alfred smiled in greeting, though the casual way in which he addressed Diana would have been smile enough. Alfred had called her ‘Miss Prince’ exactly once before Diana insisted that he just call her by her familiar name.

She clasped his hands in her own and smiled back. “Someone has to bring him back.”

Bruce could hear the many meanings in that statement and he resisted the urge to shift away uncomfortably, but his limp was definitely noticed. Alfred gave him a knowing look and Bruce prepared himself for the speech about proper healing times over dinner.

“Well, take a seat, I always set for ten,” Alfred said as he dropped Diana’s hands and went back off towards the dining room.

Bruce touched Diana’s arm as she walked past him. She stopped in her pursuit of the seat next to Kate and turned to him.

“Thank you.”

“No need for that between friends,” Diana said, “But you’re welcome.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
